Curses Foiled
by Shi Shi Gashira
Summary: Dean and always a girl!Sam have a complicated relationship. It's a good thing they love each other. Started with a one-shot. More chapters are added as plot-bunnies appear. Mild angst. Some humor. Stories vary.
1. A Curse Bent not Broken

A Curse, not Broken, but Bent.

_This takes place at the beginning of the summer before always a girl!Sam leaves for Stanford._

**Dean POV:**  
Dean could hear pages rustling as Sammy flipped the dusty tome she was holding. "This is useless, Dean. I don't know what the witch was hiding, but it's not in any of these books." Sam grouched as she turned to look at her big brother.

As Dean pivoted to face Sam, a momentary glint of light caught his eye. In the back of the desk drawer he had been rifling, Dean could make out the shine of something metallic. "Hang on, Sammy. I just want to finish looking through this desk and we can go meet Dad back at the motel."

Dean pulled old papers and office supplies from the drawer in order to uncover whatever had been hidden in the back of the drawer. Dean thought it might be a letter opener, but maybe it was some item of power that the witch had hidden.

He couldn't quite see it in the darkness of the drawer, so Dean carefully grasped the object between his thumb and forefinger. He eased it out into the light and could see that it was no letter opener. It was a small dagger. The handle was creamy white and looked to be made of bone, ivory, or antler. The blade gleamed bronze in the soft glow of the banker's lamp on the desk.

There was something etched into the metal of the blade in swirling, cursive letters. Dean's finger itched to grab the handle of the knife and hold it up for a closer look. Dean knew that urges like that usually meant an object was cursed. He was just letting go of the tentative hold he had on the knife when Sam startled Dean, asking, "What have you got there?" from just over his shoulder. Dean flinched and the knife sliced a shallow arc across the edge of his thumb.

Dean hissed and stared at the cut. A single drop of blood welled up and fell into the open desk drawer. "Oh, fuuuuuuck," Dean moaned as he watched the blood spatter on the bronze blade of the cursed knife.

What had been an ignorable curiosity about the knife now flared into a burning need to pick it up. Dean's forehead was dotted in sweat and his teeth ground against each other as he tried to resist the overwhelming desire to grab the handle of the dagger. Almost before he knew what was happening, Dean's hand snatched the knife from the drawer and twisted the blade so that Dean could read the words etched onto it.

**"With this knife, true love was betrayed. Find your heart, thrust, and draw blood with your blade."**

Dean barely had time to finish reading the words out loud before he turned the knife on himself and attempted to stab himself through the heart. If Sammy hadn't been standing right there, she never would have had time to grab his hand with both of hers and pull the point of the knife away from Dean's chest.

The pair fell over and Sam landed on top of Dean as his back smacked into the hardwood floor. Sam had both of her hands wrapped tightly around Dean's wrist as she worked one knee between their bodies. She was trying to gain some leverage to push against Dean and get the knife out of his hand. "Let go. Let GO!" Sam was practically chanting at a trembling Dean.

"I can't" Dean gasped. "Fuck, Sammy! Help me, please." Dean begged his little sister. Dean was glad that his barely 18 year old sister was 5 foot 10 and in great shape from hunting, but he knew that she was nowhere near as strong as he was. His only hope was that her lightning quick wits could come up with some way to save them.

Dean almost sagged in relief as Sam started to talk. "OK. OK. Ummm. True love. Find your heart." Sam's eyes looked desperate as she struggled to find any solution for Dean's predicament. Then they opened wide and a grin spread across her face. "I've got it! Find your heart means find your true love."

Dean stared up at Sammy in confusion. He asked, "What are you talking about?"

Dean wondered why the hell Sammy was talking about true love at a time like this. She needed to be thinking about a way to knock him out or disarm him before he managed to fucking hari-kari himself in some shitty little ranch house in some crappy little Midwest suburb.

Sam pulled one of her masterful bitch-faces and continued, "Just listen to me, Dean. We can bend this curse, OK? Find your heart doesn't have to be literal. The first part of the curse mentions true love, so I need you to believe that the 'find your heart' part of the curse also refers to true love. Please Dean, believe it for me. Please."

Tears were building up in Sammy's eyes and Dean did his very best to believe what she was telling him. _Don't find my actual heart. Find my true love. I don't need to stab myself, I need to kill some poor girl I've probably never met. No need to slide this dagger into my chest, that's not what the curse wants._ Dean could feel the tension in his right arm releasing. It was working. Apparently, the curse reacted in the way he interpreted it. Whatever he believed the curse wanted is how the curse would act. Sammy was so fucking smart.

Dean's head dropped back onto the floor with a thump. He was still unable to drop the dagger, but the desire to immediately kill himself was gone. He heard Sammy asking, "Are you OK? Can I let go of your wrist?" Dean nodded and felt Sam's fingers unwrap from his arm. He knew he was going to have a bracelet of bruises, but that was a small price to pay for his folly. He should never have touched the knife.

Dean began to calm down and took several deep breaths. He could feel Sam's palpable concern for him. _Thank God Sammy was so smart and strong. She had come up with a whole new way to 'bend' a curse on the fly while keeping him from stabbing himself. He was lucky that she had been able to sit on him and keep his arm from getting too close to his own chest._ Of course, she was now squashing him painfully into the floor. Dean began to get a little uncomfortable as he considered their positions.

Sam was still sitting on Dean. She was straddling his waist and she had one hand resting on his chest, just above his heart. "You're crushing me, Sasquatch." Dean grunted. Dean might call her 'sasquatch,' but she was by no means fat. Nonetheless, her athletic, slightly muscular body was too heavy for her to be sitting on his stomach comfortably. Dean glared at her, and Sammy rocked back a few inches until her butt was directly over his groin. Dean hitched in a breath as Sam unintentionally made their positions _worse_.

Dean started to panic as he could feel himself getting hard. _Oh, God. Oh, God. She has got to stop doing that. This is why he had stopped sparring with her when she was 15. He just couldn't control how his body reacted to her. She was just so fucking beautiful. She was all long legs, hazel eyes, and dimples. It was wrong, Wrong, WRONG! His baby sister did not need to know that he was one sick bastard. She was so beautiful, kind, smart, funny, strong, and fearless. He loved her so much._

A look of horror and shame contorted Dean's face when his right hand began to twitch. He yelled at Sam, "Get up! Run! Dammit Sammy, RUN!" Dean hated himself in that moment. That was the moment he realized that Sammy was the love of his life; the moment he knew he was going to try to kill her.

**Sam POV:**  
Sam leapt up from her brother and started to back away from where he was still flat on the floor. "Dean? What's wrong?" she asked. She watched as emotions flitted through Dean's expressive, green eyes. Horror, disgust, fear, shame, and panic warred for control of Dean's expression. Sam's eyes opened wide in shock as she heard Dean's reply. "It wants you, Sammy. You are my heart. I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry, but you are my 'true love.' You need to run. NOW!"

Sam knew that she only had moments before the curse regained control of Dean and he would be after her with the dagger. She did what any sane person would do; she turned and ran. She ran out of the house and through the back yard to the golf course that the property backed onto. She didn't know how long she could stay ahead of Dean.

Normally, Sam could outrun Dean easily. He was taller than her, but his adorable bow legs made his stride shorter than hers. Also, Sam enjoyed running and jogged every morning before school. Unfortunately, all bets were off when it came to a curse. Dean could very well be able to run back to back marathons if it meant the curse could be fulfilled.

Sam needed to think. They had successfully bent the curse once. It could be bent a little further. She thought about the last line of the curse.

"Find your heart, thrust, and draw blood with your blade."

On the bright side, Dean had convinced himself that 'find your heart' meant finding his true love. He was no longer trying to stab himself through the heart. On the other hand, he also seemed to think that Sam was his true love. Sam didn't know if she would be able to bend that part of the curse any further, and even if she could convince Dean that she was not his 'true love,' that just put someone else in danger.

Sam decided to focus on the last part of the line. "Thrust and draw blood with your blade." It really did seem like Dean was going to have to stab her. Maybe she could convince him that a _tiny_ stab would work. She really didn't want to be stabbed at all, and she was afraid that curse would still want a _through the heart_ kind of stabbing.

Panic set in as Sam could hear Dean gaining on her. She darted around a sand trap and into a small copse of trees at the edge of a rough. She needed to think of a way to change the curse in a non-violent direction. She wished she had more time to think. Sam skidded to a halt as a thought struck her. Sam berated herself for being such a teenage girl. She wished she could think of any other solution, but time was running out. Years of reading cheap romance novels in hotel rooms made her unable to think of "thrust" as anything but sexual.

Sam wondered. _Could it work? Would Dean be able to convince himself of this new interpretation of the curse? There is only one way to find out._

Sam stood in the moonlight streaming through the trees and waited for her big brother. Dean ran into the trees and looked startled to see her just standing there. Dean groaned. "Why aren't you running, Sammy?"

Sam took a deep breath and answered, "I don't need to run. You aren't going to hurt me." Dean looked incredulous. He shook his head back and forth while hope flared in his eyes. "I'm not?" he asked.

Sam took a deep steadying breath. She wasn't sure that Dean would allow the curse to be bent this way. Whether her plan worked or not, Sam was fucked.

"First of all," Sam stated. "That is not your blade." Dean looked down at the dagger in his hand. His eyebrows drew together and he cocked his head slightly to one side. Looking back into Sam's eyes, he said, "OK, but I have my knife in my boot. What difference does it make?"

Confidence in her plan began to grow as Dean kept his distance. Sam shook her head and smiled at Dean. She looked him in the eye and said, "Your blade isn't a knife at all, Dean. _Your_ blade is your rock hard cock."

Dean's jaw dropped and he squinted at Sam in confusion. "What?" he stammered. Sam knew she really had to sell this idea, or the curse could not be bent. Dean had to believe her. He had to _want_ to believe her, and Sam knew this was one of the stupidest, riskiest ideas she had ever had.

Focusing all of her attention on Dean, Sam began to walk slowly closer. She tried her best to put some _slink_ in her walk. She reached Dean's side and lifted her lips to his ear. She could tell that Dean was holding his breath waiting for what she had to say. "Thrust and draw blood with your blade, Dean. You aren't supposed to stab me. You are supposed to fuck me and take my virginity."

Dean drew in a shaky breath as the idea swirled through his brain. "I don't think…" he stammered. Sam husked her reply, "I'm a virgin, Dean. When you thrust your hard cock into my tight, cherry pussy, there will be blood. Come on big brother. Don't you want to sheathe your blade in me?"

Dean moaned and began to whisper, "Oh God, no, Sammy. What have you done?" The pain in his eyes was almost unbearable, but Sam took some joy in the fact that Dean dropped the cursed blade.

Sam reached up and pushed Dean's leather jacket off of his shoulders before removing her own jean jacket. Dean stood rigid and trembling as Sam lifted his arms to pull Dean's tee shirt off over his head. As she removed each piece of clothing, Sam spread them on the ground. Sam did not need a rock or sticks gouging into her back while she was having her cherry popped by her big brother.

Dean had squeezed his eyes tightly shut until Sam began to unbuckle his belt. His breathing was ragged, but he managed to say, "Stop." Sam ignored him, but focused on removing her own clothes for a minute. She toed off her boots and sat down on the small pallet of clothing that she had built. She pulled off her socks and stuffed them into the openings of her boots. Her own tee shirt was added to the makeshift bed. Her jeans were folded on top of her boots. Before long she was stripped down to her bra and panties.

Dean had stood watching her as Sam stripped. Sam could not help admiring his muscled arms and shoulders as he stood bare-chested in the moonlight. It was not the first time that Sam had admired Dean's body. She would have had to be blind or stupid not to notice how beautiful he was. If she had somehow missed it on her own, she had certainly heard it enough from the girls _and guys_ that she met in every new school.

As he stood, staring down at her, Sam thought that he had never been more gorgeous. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides and tears were starting to work their way down his cheeks from eyes filled with pain. Sam's own heart ached to see how he was fighting himself over what had to happen. Sam didn't know if it was Dean's own desire or the curse, but she could see that he was fully aroused and tenting his jeans.

Sam went from sitting to kneeling in front of Dean in one graceful movement. She reached up with her hands and unbuckled his belt. Dean's hands clenched tighter, but he did not move away. Sam made quick work of the button and zipper of Dean's jeans. It was only moments before the only barrier between Sam's face and Dean's cock was the thin fabric of his boxer shorts. Sam kept eye contact with Dean as she ran her cheek across the hard bulge.

Dean gasped and his legs began to tremble. Sam untied Dean's boots and lifted each foot carefully to remove his boots and socks. Then she pulled his jeans down to his ankles so that Dean could step out of them.

As Sam pulled on Dean's hands to drag him down to her side, Dean groaned, "Fuck, Sammy. This is so wrong." Sammy refrained from commenting on the pre-cum wetting the front of Dean's boxer shorts. Instead, she asked, "would you prefer the alternative?" She felt bad as Dean flinched from her words.

Sam tried to make Dean feel better about the situation. "I'm going to be OK. We're going to be OK. I know you're not going to hurt me." Dean shook his head but reached up to brush his fingers gently over Sam's cheek. "You deserve better than this, Sammy" he said.

Sam considered Dean's words. Did she really deserve "better?" Dean loved her. Sam trusted Dean. She knew he would never hurt her. Also, she had heard enough rumours of Dean's prowess to believe that she might even enjoy it. It wasn't like she had ever seriously considered having sex with her brother, but she had always compared every boy who ever hit on her to him. The other boys had always fallen short. Sam asked Dean, "Do you really think that I should have given it up to one of the zit-faced kids that have been sniffing after me since I was 15 and grew tits?"

A throaty growl was Dean's first answer, and he then said, "No! Just no, Sammy." Sam smiled at her brother revealing the dimples that she knew he could not resist. She reached around her back and unhooked her bra. Dean licked his full lips as Sam's small but perky breasts were revealed to his gaze. She started to hook her thumbs under her panties to pull them down when Dean replaced her hands with his own.

Dean slowly worked Sam's panties down her hips and out from under her butt. He pulled them off of her legs and she was fully naked in front of him. Dean removed his boxers, freeing his leaking erection. It looked like Dean was fully invested in the plan to bend the curse.

Dean pushed Sam backwards until she was fully reclined on the small pile of clothes. Dean dragged his fingertips of both hands from Sam's collar bones down her chest, across her tits, barely brushing against her nipples. He then stretched out beside her, half covering her body with his own.

Sam was surprised at how quickly she was becoming aroused from being touched by her brother. Her nipples had stood at attention as soon as they were touched. She could feel wetness pooling between her legs, and a throbbing need began to grow.

"I want to make this good for you, Sammy." Dean murmured into her ear. Goose pimples broke out across Sam's skin at those whispered words. Dean was kissing her neck, under her jaw and behind her ear. None of the kisses were enough to leave marks, but they all sent shivers down her spine.

Sam wanted to touch Dean, too. She ran her hands up his arms and clutched at his shoulders. She had to keep her fingernails short for hunting, but she scraped what she had down Dean's back. Sam kept her left hand on Dean's hip, but grabbed his ass with her right. Deans left leg was between her thighs and hitched up against her as she squeezed her hand on his butt. She loved the way Dean's muscles twitched as she explored.

Dean supported himself on his right elbow as he continued to kiss Sam's neck and chest. His mouth latched onto her left nipple as his left hand worked down Sam's body to the juncture of her legs. "Oh God, Sammy. So wet for me. So fucking wet." Dean whispered as his fingers explored.

Dean began to lightly flick the tips of his fingers across the tip of Sam's clit. She moaned and arched up against Dean's chest. He kept her legs apart with his thigh as she tried to squeeze her legs together. His fingers flew over her in a steady rhythm. Ring, middle, index, ring, middle, index. Over and over they brushed across her clit until Sam screamed and exploded in an intense orgasm. Dean rested his forehead on hers as she caught her breath.

"So beautiful when you cum for me." Dean stated. "I need to be inside you now, Sammy. Is that OK? Please?" Sam could not believe how much control Dean had. His body was tight with tension and need. His breath was catching in his throat and his cock was slick with pre-cum, but he still asked permission to go further.

Until now, Sam had been running on adrenaline. As she spread her legs wider so that her beloved big brother could rest between them, Sam had a moment of sheer terror. Dean must have been able to sense something even through the driving need of the curse, because he kissed Sam on the mouth before whispering, "I've got you, Sammy. Just relax. It's gonna be fine. I promise."

Sam's nerves were strung taut. "I don't know what to do, Dean. You're gonna have to tell me what to do." Sam replied.

A few wet tears fell from Dean's eyes and landed on Sam's chest and neck. Dean's vivid green eyes were tightly closed as he continued to hold himself back from penetrating his baby sister. Sam gently touched his chin and lifted it so that she could look at Dean. He opened his eyes and searched Sam's face saying, "I'm so sorry, baby girl. Just relax for me, please." Sam nodded without breaking eye contact.

Dean inched forward until the head of his cock was pressed against Sam's tight opening. He rocked forward, pressing into her wet hole. Sam tried not to hold her breath, but it just felt so _right_ to have Dean between her legs. She took several shuddering breaths as Dean worked his way into her, inch by slow inch.

They both freeze as Dean hits a barrier inside Sam. She clenches tightly around Dean and he whispers, "Relax. Just breathe. It's only gonna hurt for a second. OK, Sammy?" Sam relaxes her body, takes a deep centering breath and nods.

Dean moves and a sharp burn fills Sam's awareness. She hisses between her teeth until Dean is fully seated inside her. She can feel his balls pressed up against her perineum for a short moment until he pulls out a fraction of an inch just to push back in again.

Sam moans as Dean begins to rock himself in and out of her body. Sam mourns the loss of fullness as he pulls out, but the feeling of being filled again is just so _fucking_ awesome. She wasn't prepared for how overwhelmingly great it would feel to have a man, her _brother_, above her and in her.

All Sam could do was clutch at dean's shoulders and wrap her legs around his back, pulling him into her with her heels on every thrust. Heat was building in her belly, and Sam knew she was close to another orgasm. She slid her right hand down from Dean's shoulder to his chest. He moaned and trembled as Sam circled his left nipple with her thumb before giving it a pinch.

Sam continued to work her hand down between their bodies until her fingertips could rub against her clit. She brushed herself to match the rhythm of Dean's thrusts until she came screaming and clenching around Dean.

The tight spasms of Sam's squeezing pussy must have been too much for Dean, and he came with a yell, collapsing on top of his sister.

It seemed like only moments passed before Sam was left uncovered and cold when Dean lifted himself off of her. He refused to meet her eyes as he gathered his clothes from the ground around and under them. He dressed quickly without saying a word to Sam as she began to put on her own clothes. Dean turned his back to Sam as they dressed in silence. Once she had finished lacing her boots, Sam walked over to Dean and touched his back.

Dean flinched away from Sam's touch. He refused to turn and face her, so Sam had to walk around in front of him. He had the choice to turn away from her again, but he stayed rigidly fixed to his chosen spot. Sam needed her brother to hold her and tell her everything was going to be OK, that nothing had changed. "Dean?" Sam's voice quavered as she reached out again for her brother. Her tears began to fall as Dean still refused to even look at her.

Sam let out a broken sob as she tried to quell the fear that she had broken her relationship with her brother by breaking the curse. At the sudden noise, Dean's eyes snapped up to Sam's face. Sam had a brief moment to thank God for her puppy dog eyes before Dean reached out and pulled her tight to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and Sam pressed her face against Dean's neck.

Sam breathed in Dean's comforting scent. Gun oil, leather, and sweat mixed in a heady Dean perfume. To Sam it smelled like love and home. Sam wrapped her arms around Dean's waist as he rocked them gently from side to side in a slow, close dance.

Sam began to say something, _anything_, to Dean, "I…" Dean cut her off with, "I don't want to talk about it Sam. Not now. Not ever." His swaying stopped, but he didn't let her go. He held her close with his nose pressed into the hair at her temple. His right hand rubbed in small circles and curves across the top of her back and shoulders.

After a few minutes, Dean heaved a deep breath and let Sam go. "Dad is probably wondering where we are. Come on." Dean stated in a calm but detached voice. He began to walk quickly across the golf course, back to the waiting Impala.

Sam followed her brother. She squinted her eyes in thought as she glared at dean's back. He may say that he never wanted to talk about what had happened, but Sammy knew a long conversation was on the way. Sam knew one time with Dean would never be enough.

AN: I don't own Supernatural or its characters. I'm just a fan.


	2. Curse of the Cozy Cabin

**THEN:**

_The summer before Sam left her family for a new life at Stanford was one of the loneliest she would ever experience. Within days of saving Dean from a cursed object by giving him her virginity, Sam realized that she had broken the relationship she had with her brother when she broke the curse._

_ It had been years since Dean had wrapped his arms around her while watching a movie or tucked her in to bed at night with a kiss on the forehead. Still, they had shared the occasional brief hug or pat on the shoulder. Dean would sometimes stand behind her with his arms on hers correcting her aim during target practice. They had usually sat on the same side of diner booths if their dad was around. Now all of that had ended. _

_Dean wouldn't touch her at all. No pats on the back for a job well done or sitting together for dinner. No accidental brushes of feet under tables. No sitting next to each other watching TV. Dean would go out of his way to avoid being within touching distance. Hell, he wouldn't even look at her. _

_Dean refused to meet her eyes with his own. It would have made conversation awkward, but Dean didn't talk to Sam anymore, either. If Sam asked him a direct question, Dean would answer it in as few words as possible. _

_As the summer wore on, Sam began to look forward to leaving for college more than she ever thought possible. She no longer worried about how leaving would make Dean feel. Once, she had been afraid that Dean would see it as a rejection of him and all that he had done for Sam over the years. Now, Dean had rejected her and it was overwhelmingly painful. _

_When Sam finally left, even John's anger and ultimatums held little sting when compared to the loss she felt about Dean. _

**NOW:**

Sam was a silent passenger in the Impala. She sat with her boots kicked off and her legs curled up on the bench seat between her and Dean. As she shifted, her toes brushed Dean's denim clad hip. Lynyrd Skynyrd played out of the car speakers, and for once, it wasn't loud enough to cause permanent hearing loss.

Another push of her toes against Dean's hip only caused a tighter, white knuckled grip of the steering wheel. Dean didn't flinch from her touch, but he refused to acknowledge it in any way. Sam relented and pulled her feet slightly closer to her own body.

It had been more than three months since Sam had dropped out of Stanford following the death of her best friend Jess. Three months of looking for their dad, searching for the yellow-eyed demon, and hunting bad things. It had also been three months of enforced proximity to one another.

Sam shifted and readjusted the sweatshirt she was using as a pillow against the car door. She had considered getting a real pillow and maybe even a blanket since they sometimes travelled hundreds of miles a day, but she didn't need Dean calling her '_princess_' or '_girl_' even though she was one. As her head bounced against the cold glass of the window, Sam could not help thinking that her big brother's shoulder looked much more comfortable to lean against than a door handle.

Maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder. Three years apart seemed to have helped Dean get over some of the problem he had with Sam before she left for Stanford. So things weren't exactly _lovey dovey _between them, but Dean no longer flinched if Sam touched him.

Sam had tested the waters with a congratulatory high five after a successful salt n' burn. When Dean had given her an honest to God smile after the high five, Sam had grinned back. She had dusted him off after a poltergeist attack. She rested her hand on his shoulder and asked him if he needed any help packing rock salt in shotgun shells. Sam had even pressed herself against Dean's side to avoid being groped by a sleaze-ball in a bar. That time, Dean had actually put his arm around her shoulder and glared at the guy. Sure, he had dropped the arm and excused himself to the bathroom as soon as the guy went away, but Sam still considered it a victory.

Some might ask, "A victory in what?" It was a victory in Sam's war to rebuild the relationship she had with her brother. He had once been the most important person in Sam's life, and she needed for him to be that again.

In the long years since Sam had boarded a bus to California, she had thought long and hard about the 'incident', as she preferred to think of it. It had taken a Women's Studies class, several 'Safe Night Out' marches, and a best friend who had been abused by a step-father for Sam to realize that she had raped Dean.

She was supposed to be someone that Dean could trust implicitly, and she had broken that trust. He had said 'No' and 'Stop'. Sam had ignored him. He had cried both before and during the act itself. Sam had thought he was beautiful when he cried. He had retreated from her as soon as the curse was broken in what Sam was sure to be horror and shame. Sam was the one who had bent the curse in a way that forced Dean to have sex with her. It may have saved his life, but he hadn't wanted it, had tried to fight it, and clearly regretted it.

It was no longer a surprise to Sam that Dean had been unable to touch her or look at her for the rest of that summer. It only surprised her now that he was willing to let her back into his life. It surprised her that Dean had sought her out for help finding dad. She had been outright shocked when he had told her that he _wanted_ them to continue hunting together and that he _needed_ her with him as family.

Unfortunately, all of the touching so far had been instigated by Sam. Dean may not flinch from her, anymore, but he didn't reach out to her either. Sam didn't think that Dean would be very happy if she decided to use him as a pillow. She just continued to try and get comfortable enough against the car door to catch a quick nap.

Sam woke as the Impala turned into the pot-holed parking lot of a campground. She swiped the embarrassing string of drool off of her chin with the sleeve of her flannel shirt. Dean parked the car in front of the large wood cabin where the office was located and cut the engine. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Ugly." He quipped with a grin.

A small smile played at Sam's lips. She had missed Dean's juvenile sense of humor almost as much as the casual touches that she craved. If Dean was comfortable calling her 'Sleeping Ugly' and 'Princess', then their relationship was one step closer to what Sam thought of as _normal_.

Sam looked around, bleary eyed. "Where are we?" she asked.

Dean answered, "On a hunt, Sammy!" Sam glared at her brother until he decided to continue. "We are at the Cozy Cabins Campground. The honeymoon cabin here is the site of some very freaky happening every Valentine's day. Guess what day it is tomorrow and where we will be staying, Sammy."

Sam could not believe her ears. "I don't understand, Dean. Is it… Did you…. Are we… _really_ going to be staying in a honeymoon cabin for Valentine's day?" A dark red blush crept up Sam's neck and face as a vivid fantasy of Dean stretched out naked on a bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire filled her mind. If not avoiding her touches were small steps in repairing their relationship, this was a _giant leap_in the direction that Sam had only dreamed their relationship could go.

The way Dean's eyes practically bugged out of his head indicated to Sam that she may have misconstrued the situation. Dean looked appalled. His eyes slipped away from hers and his throat worked convulsively. Sam immediately regretted her assumptions. "Ha. Ha. Ha." Sam forced out the most ridiculous, fake sounding laugh she had ever heard. "Why don't you tell me about some of the _freaky_ things that happen in the cabin?"

Dean cleared his throat and stared out of the Impala's windshield, refusing to face her. "Right, well…. Most years, nothing unusual happens, but sometimes, weird shit happens." Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the head rest in thought. "There has been one murder-suicide and several times, supposedly happy couples beat the crap out of each other. There is a very high incidence of quick divorces and annulments."

Sam thought about what Dean had told her and asked, "What about people who aren't married who stay in that cabin?" Dean shrugged but lifted his head and finally looked at her. "I guess we'll find out." He replied.

Sam dropped her duffel inside the door of the cabin and looked around. The room was dominated by an enormous bed. It had to be a California King and it took up half of the main room. To one side there was a kitchenette and a door that presumably lead to the bathroom. The other wall had a large stone fireplace with an honest to God bearskin rug in front of it.

Dean was waiting to enter the cabin, so Sam walked over to the bathroom door and peeked inside. Toilet? Check. Sink? Check. Ridiculous, orgy sized jetted tub? Check. Sam's fantasies shifted from naked Dean on bear skin rug to wet, slippery, naked Dean in tub.

Sam did not know how she was going to survive two nights in this cabin with the object of every great sexual fantasy she had ever had. One horrible, life altering instance of brother molestation was enough for her, thanks. Sam knew that if she ever gave in to her incestuous desires it would destroy her relationship with Dean forever.

The rustle of fabric drew Sam's attention away from the bathroom. She turned around to see Dean pulling clothes out of his duffel and putting them in drawers. Sam watched as he put his favourite knife under the pillows on the side of the bed closest to the door.

After picking her own duffel up from where she had abandoned it by the door, Sam began to unpack her things. Her laptop went on a small table in the kitchen area of the cabin. She plugged it in so that the battery could charge. There was only one chest of drawers, so Sam stood next to Dean and put her clothes in the drawers Dean had not claimed for himself.

As her arm brushed Deans while they tidied up, the contact caused shivers to jolt up Sam's spine. It was almost a relief when Dean backed away from her and stated, "I'll finish unpacking later. We need to get some food and supplies since we are going to be here for at least two nights."

Sam had been curious as to why they had arrived a day early for Valentine's day, so she asked, "Why didn't we just check in tomorrow if all of the _phenomena_ will occur tomorrow?"

Dean shrugged and answered, "Valentine's day starts at midnight, I didn't want to take the chance of missing anything."

Sam decided to take a nap while Dean went to stock up on groceries. The bed was incredibly comfortable and was mounded with pillows. Because he had put his knife under the pillow on _his_ side of the bed, Sam stretched out on the side farthest from the door. Sam worried about how she and Dean were going to spend the night in the same bed.

Although they had often had to share a bed while growing up, Dean had put a stop to the practice when Sam was about 15. He said she was a 'sasquatch' and took up too much space for them to share anymore. Sam was tall for a girl, but she was still 3 inches shorter than Dean and far less bulky. He took up much more space in a bed than she did.

These days, Sam was afraid that Dean thought she would molest him in his sleep. He always changed clothes in the bathroom and slipped into bed while she was changing. Sam remembered that Dean had preferred to sleep in just boxers or boxers with a tee shirt. Now, Dean slept in sweat pants or sleep pants and always wore a tee shirt. Sam hadn't seen his naked chest since the night of the 'incident' except when he had been injured in a hunt and needed stitches.

Sam wished she wasn't sick in the head. She wished she didn't lust after her own brother. She really wished that she could go back in time and change what had happened _that_ night. If she had found some other way to save Dean from the cursed knife, things would be normal between them. She would never have known how good it felt for Dean to be above her and in her, and Dean wouldn't be afraid of her. Sam fell into a restless doze.

Dean returned from the small country store that he had found in town and quietly began to put away the groceries he had bought. He was doing his best not to disturb his little sister who was sleeping on the enormous bed that dominated one whole side of the cabin. She had cat napped in the car, but was still exhausted from months of nightmares and bad sleep.

The horrific death of Sam's best friend and roommate, Jess, was going to take a long time to recover from. It was very difficult for Dean to watch Sam suffer and grieve. Whenever she had a nightmare, he wanted to climb into her bed, hold her close, and soothe away her fears like he had when she was a little girl.

The problem was, she was not a little girl. Even though she would always be his little sister, Sam was definitely a grown woman. Dean knew just how grown she was because he was the sick son of a bitch that had taken the last scraps of her childhood from her when he had taken her virginity. Sure, it had been while he was under a curse, but he had _enjoyed_ it.

He had tried to bend the curse in any other direction, but from the moment Sam had told him that he was supposed to fuck her and take her virginity, it was the only thing he could think of. By the time Sam had rubbed her beautiful face against his straining erection, he had stopped fighting the curse and was just trying to control himself enough to make it good for Sammy. He had never wanted to be anywhere as much as he wanted to be balls deep in his innocent baby sister. Having her long, coltish legs wrapped around his hips while Dean had rocked into her tight, virginal pussy had felt like coming home. A sick, twisted, incestuous, cursed home, but home none the less.

Sam had been so brave that night. It broke Dean's heart how forgiving she had been after what he did to her. She would have run screaming if she had any idea about even _half_ of the things he had fantasized about in the aftermath of 'IT' as he liked to call it. Dean had been both relieved and devastated when she left for college at the end of the summer.

On one hand, Dean missed Sammy like he would miss oxygen. He needed her and felt like curling up and dying for months after she left. On the other hand, it had taken all of his willpower to avoid hurting her more after 'IT' had happened. He wanted to touch her and kiss her. He wanted to fuck her brains out.

He wanted to stare at her all the time. Furtive glances and long stretches of staring at her from behind car magazines became Dean's way of life. It had made him feel like a peeping Tom. He had to start crossing his arms and tucking his hands in his armpits in order to not forget himself and reach out to caress her perfect skin.

Dean knew he had a serious problem when he started jerking off with his face pressed firmly into Sam's pillow; breathing her scent. He had become a creeper.

The three years that she had been away at school had given him better control over his perversions. He was no longer totally crippled by the painful _needwantneed _ that he felt whenever she touched him, but he still did not trust himself to touch her back.

Just a few weeks before, Dean had put his arm around her shoulders to ward off some scumbag in a bar, and he had to retreat to the bathroom and jerk off right after. If Sam noticed his odd behaviour, she didn't say anything.

Dean really had no idea why he had decided to torture himself with this hunt. He must not have been thinking straight when he thought it would be even remotely OK for them to be alone together, in a romantic cabin, for Valentine's day. He had only realized his mistake when Sammy had called him on it at check in. The way she had stammered and got flushed in the face told Dean that she was afraid of him. Even now, she was sleeping so close to the edge of her side of the bed that Dean knew she thought he was going to molest her in her sleep.

Dean was pretty beat from driving all day, so he changed into sleep pants and stretched out on _his_ side of the bed to catch a nap until Sam woke up. He didn't know how long he had been asleep when he woke up in the poorly lit room. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was 2 AM. Sammy was tossing and turning from her side of the bed.

"Nooooo." She moaned. "No Dean, stop." She muttered while clenching her fists.

Dean was horrified. Her usual nightmare fare was distinctly Jess oriented, but this one was about him. Dean's imagination jumped to a terrible conclusion. In her dreams, Dean was doing something to Sammy. Something she clearly didn't want him to do.

Dean reached over and brushed Sam's hair back off of her forehead. "Sammy. Sammy wake up, please." Dean tried to use his least threatening voice to wake his sister. He froze as her eyes flew open. He expected her to recoil from him in horror, but she grabbed the front of his tee shirt, instead.

"Don't, Dean, please. Please don't leave me." Sam sobbed and pressed her face into Dean's chest.

When Sam woke fully, she was sprawled across Dean's chest with her hands fisted in his shirt. His tee was wet where she had been crying and his hands were clenched tightly at his sides. Sam scrambled back from him on the bed. Dean was both glad for the space between them and sad for the loss of her warmth on his chest.

Dean looked at Sam in confusion. He could hear her voice loud and clear, but Sam's lips were not moving. She was kneeling on the back corner of the bed. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a worried puppy dog expression. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line but Dean could hear her saying (_Sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry. Ok. Ok. Don't touch him. Don't make any sudden moves._)

Dean gaped at Sam. "Sammy? I think…. I think there's something wrong with me." Dean was hallucinating or hearing things. Sam cocked her head to one side and whispered, "Hallucinating?"

(_Oh, crap._) Dean thought. "Oh, crap!" Sam said out loud.

Sam: _Dean? Can you hear what I'm thinking?_

Dean: Oh shit, Sammy. Yeah I can hear what you're thinking. _Can you hear me?_

Sam: Fuck Dean, yeah I can hear you. _Oh shit. Oh shit! _Sam stared at her brother who was lounging against the headboard of the bed. His tee shirt was still scrunched where Sam had been grabbing at it. She could not help remembering the feel of his muscular chest under her hands. _Don't think about his chest. OH SHIT! __**Don't **__think about it I said!_

Dean looked down at his chest and lifted his right hand to touch where the tee shirt was wet and wrinkled. _What's wrong with my chest?_ He wondered.

Sam: _I'm sorry Dean. So sorry. I'm not gonna hurt you, again. I promise. Don't touch him. Don't scare him. Breathe damn it!_

Dean: _ What? _"What?"

Dean was confused by Sam's inner shrieking at herself and apologies to him. "What are you talking about, Sammy? How did you hurt me?" _You left. You left me! You left me for Stanford._

It was Sam's turn to be confused. "I left for Stanford so that you wouldn't have to be afraid of me anymore; afraid that I would rape you again." _You said __**no**__. you said __**stop**__. Why didn't I stop? I made you __**cry**__! Oh God! I didn't mean to hurt you! I thought we would be OK. I'm so sorry._

Tears were streaming down Sam's face as she huddled into herself on her corner of the bed. Dean could not believe what he was 'hearing.' Sam thought she had hurt _him_. "Oh, Sammy…" _You didn't hurt me, baby girl. I wanted it. I hurt you. You did your best and I didn't take care of you. I couldn't protect you from __**me**__. I'm a monster, Sammy. I want need want need. Oh God!_

"Don't look at me." Dean moaned as he clutched his hands into his hair. _This is a nightmare!_

Sam could not help looking at Dean. "How did we get it so wrong?" She asked. "Dean." _Dean! _"Look at me."

The heavy weight of guilt lifted from Sam's shoulders. Years of beliefs that she had hurt Dean, had _raped_ Dean, were obliterated by the overwhelming joy in the knowledge that Dean felt the same way she did. He wanted her. Dean needed her just like Sam needed him. A wave of _joy love need want_ washed over Dean followed by _touch me, touch me, need you to touch me_.

Dean's hands twitched at the idea his hands touching _anything_ on Sam's perfect body. He could not control the low, "Please" he whispered as he thought: _ Please, Sammy. God yes, let me touch you. Don't be afraid. I would never hurt you on purpose. _

A deep red flush crept up Sammy's neck and face. Dean was absolutely flabbergasted at what he was 'hearing' from his baby sister. The images that had begun to accompany the words in his head were vivid and near pornographic.

He was getting flashes of his hands on her chest; his mouth on her mouth, nipples, clit; Sam sucking his cock. Dean didn't know if they were all coming from Sam or if they were his own thoughts. Dean blurted out, "YES!" _yes. Yes. Yes._ As he rolled to his hands and knees and began to crawl across the bed towards Sammy.

Meeting Dean in the middle of the bed, Sam said, "I love you." It was hardly more than a whisper. She placed her hands on Dean's shoulders and pushed him back onto the mattress. The remembered image of Dean crying as he took Sam's virginity flashed across the mental bond from Sam. She asked, "Why, Dean. If I wasn't forcing you, why were you crying?"

A surge of guilt shot from Dean to Sam through the bond. Dean tried to answer, "I thought the only reason you let me do _that_ was to break the curse…" Dean's voice choked off. _I'm sorry, Sam. The curse was broken the second I drew blood by breaking your hymen. I should have stopped then, but I just wanted you so much. I should have let you go, but I was too selfish._

Sam pushed her right hand through Dean's short hair and rested her head on his chest listening to his racing heartbeat. "I would have had to kick your ass three ways to Sunday if you had stopped at that point. Seriously, Dean, _kick your ass_." Sam huffed with a laugh.

Sam had to lift herself off of Dean in order to grab the bottom edge of his tee shirt and begin to work it over his head. Dean jerked it up and off before pulling off his sleep pants and boxer briefs. He was completely naked and sprawled on the bed in front of Sam.

Dean: _Naked. Naked. Why aren't you naked? Too many clothes, Sammy._

With a startle, Sam broke out of her silent ogling of Dean's beautiful body. She made short work of her shirt, bra, jeans, and panties. In moments, she was as naked as Dean and leaned over to kiss him on the knee.

_The knee bone's connected to the thigh bone. _Sam hummed to herself as she planted kisses, nibbles, and licks over Dean's knee and inner thigh. _The thigh bone's connected to the hip bone._ Her mouth worked from his thigh to the junction of thigh and body. Sam licked a long stipe from thigh to hip bone making Dean arch off the bed. _The hip bone's connected to the __**Dean**__ bone._ Sam sucked Dean's hard cock into her mouthin a slurping gulp.

Dean let out a strangled, "Aarnnnggghhh." While thinking, _Dean bone! Fucking __**Dean **__bone. Fuck yeah! Wet hot wet SAMMY. Oh God. Too good. SLOW DOWN. I don't want it to be over so soon. Fuck. FUCK!_

Sam: _ Come for me Dean. We have the whole night. I want to taste you, Please._

There was no way for Dean to resist Sam's plea for him to come. Heat was curling in his belly and his heart was racing. Sam's tongue licked and twisted along the length of Dean's straining hard on. His hips bucked up as Dean came with a yell. Cum splashed against the back of Sam's throat and she hummed and swallowed around him.

She had barely pulled away from Dean's softening cock when he flipped Sam over onto her back and began licking his own cum out of her mouth. Dean kissed Sam like he was being paid to do it. Gentle brushes of lips and flicks of his tongue were accompanied by nips of teeth against her bottom lip and soft press of mouths. Dean worked his mouth across Sam's jaw and behind her ear. He nibbled on her neck all the while thinking, _Taste so good. Smell so good. Feel so good. Love you, Sammy. Love Love Love. _

A trail of kisses began behind Sam's ear and snaked its way down to her collarbone. Dean licked his way down Sam's chest to one breast, and he blew a soft puff of air across its nipple. _May I, please? _Dean thought at Sammy. _Yes!_ Came shooting through the bond.

Dean sucked one perfect nipple into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. His right hand gently cupped the soft globe of Sammy's breast and kneaded gently. His left hand trailed feather light touches down Sammy's right side. Fingers brushed across ribs to the dip of her waist and on to her hip.

As dean began to rub circles over Sam's hip bone with his thumb, he released her nipple with a wet plop. He turned his attention to Sam's other breast and lavished the same attention to it that he had the other. Sammy moaned and gasped under the treatment.

Sam: _Yes YES YES! Dean. Dean's mouth, oh God!. Dean's hands, fuck, fuckity fuck._

Dean almost laughed at the thoughts flowing to him from Sam, but he almost choked on some of the images that were now zipping his way from his sister's seriously dirty mind.

Dean's hands putting down a gun that he was cleaning and massaging Sam's tits while his hands still have gun oil on them.  
His ass as he was bent under the hood of the Impala. He puts down the wrench he is using and grabs Sam into an embrace.  
The flex and bunch of his muscles under a tight tee shirt as he digs a grave. He drops the shovel and pushes Sammy onto her back, running his hands all over her body and grinding into her.

Dean realizes that these images all start with a memory of something he has actually done in the past week followed by a fantasy of what Sam had wanted to happen as she watched him work. He decides to share some of his own fantasies as he moves his mouth down Sammy's body.

Sam crawling to him as he cleans guns and sucking him off.  
Sam bent over the open trunk of the Impala. Putting away weapons until Dean grabs her by the hips and grinds into her from behind.  
Her tits under a thin tank top as she does crunches on motel room carpet. Dean crawls between her bent knees, pulls off her sweat pants, and starts eating her out.

The hand that had been rubbing Sam's hip was now pushed against her pubic mound. Dean begins to rub his middle finger between Sam's folds and across her clit. His mouth has left a trail of kisses, licks, and nips of teeth across Sam's chest and down to just below her belly button.

Dean: _So wet. Warm wet slick warm wet. Can I taste you, Sammy?_

Sam: _Please Dean. Anything you want. I need, need need…._

Dean: _What do you need, baby. Tell me. Show me._

Sam: _I need you inside me, filling me. Please Dean!_

Dean: _ Sorry babe. I'm 26 not 16. You're going to have to give me a few more minutes, but how about this in the mean time?_

Sam's breath hitched in her throat and she let out a squeal as Dean slid two fingers into her pussy and curled the fingers up. He started to lick and flick her clit with his tongue in the same rhythm as the thrusting and curling of his fingers. Dean gave one hard suck to her throbbing nub, and Sam exploded in an intense orgasm.

Instead of stopping like she expected him to, Dean continued to lick and suck at Sam's clit. He did slow his pace a bit when a burst of _too much, TOO MUCH,_ came bursting over their connection. Dean thought back, _Not enough, Sammy. You taste so good. You are so wet for me. Love. Love. Love._

His hardening cock was trapped between Dean's stomach and the bed because he was lying face down between Sam's spread legs. As his hips bucked, Dean pressed his dick into the bed. He was grinding against rough sheets and wishing he was ready to fuck his baby sister.

Dean: _Want so bad. Shouldn't want. I shouldn't want my __**sister**__. Oh God, I'm a sick bastard. What's wrong with me? Tastes so good. But it's wrong wrong wrong. Feels so right. So wet warm tight wet good. I need need need._

Sam was getting closer to another orgasm and sick of hearing how _wrong_ Dean thought he was. "Get your tight, muscular, self-recriminating ass up here, Dean." She demanded. She grabbed the back of his head and tried to physically drag Dean up her body. He paused for a moment to wipe his face clean on the sheet before crawling up Sam's body and settling between her legs.

"Do you think there is something wrong with me? Do you think I am sick, because I want you as much as you want me?" Sam asked.

Dean looked into his sister's beautiful hazel eyes and shook his head. "No, Sammy. You are beautiful and perfect. I love you so much." Dean replied.

Sam grinned at her brother. "Then stop with the _wrong wrong wrong_ and give me more of the _yes yes yes_." Sam punctuated her statement with a kiss on Dean's lips.

A shift of hips brought Deans throbbing erection into contact with the warm wet heat of Sammy's dripping pussy. While maintaining a deep kiss, Dean began to push himself into Sam's wet heat.

_Yes. Yes Yes Yes! So good. Fuuuuuck._

Dean couldn't tell any more if the words were his own or Sam's. If he had been able to think, he might have realized that the _so tight wet slick_ was probably from him and the _so big hard full_ was from Sammy. They moved together in unison; a perfect rhythm that brought them closer and closer to ecstasy. It wasn't until Sam's body was clenching around him in orgasm that Dean finally let loose of his control and came deep inside his sister.

Sweat was starting to cool on their bodies before Dean rolled sideways onto the bed next to Sammy. He pulled her closer to his body until they were spooning. Naturally, Dean was the big spoon. Sam's head was pillowed on Dean's bicep and his left arm was curled around Sam's waist. He pressed his nose into the back of Sam's neck and breathed in her scent.

Dean: _I'm never gonna let you go Sammy. You're mine forever._

Sam:_ Sound's good to me, Dean. Hey… Do you think this telepathy stuff is only good for the day or is it gonna be permanent?_

Dean: _I don't know. If it's permanent, I guess you won't be able to deny how much you really like my music anymore._

Sam: _Very funny. Dean… I don't think I will handle it well when I overhear you leering at other girls. I don't think I want to know all your secrets. I can guess why there have been so many divorces and a murder/suicide._

Dean: _Yeah. Please don't start thinking about the boys you've been with. I really don't want to know._

Sammy tensed in Dean's arms .

Sam: _Ssshh no. Too embarrassing. Don't think it Sam. No No No. _

Dean: _Sam? Baby? What is too embarrassing?_

Sam cleared her throat. "There haven't been any boys, Dean. You're the only guy I've ever been with."

The feeling of truth wound through their connection, so Dean had to believe his sister. "I don't understand, Sammy. Isn't it normal for college kids to go to parties and get laid every weekend?" Dean asked.

Sam turned her head so that she could look into Dean's deep green eyes. "You are one hell of a man to try to measure up to, Dean. Everyone was too short or too tall, not strong enough, not funny, cool or brave enough. Their eyes were too brown, blue, or grey. Or not the _right_ green. Their hands weren't strong enough. Their bodies weren't scarred enough. Their legs weren't bowed enough." The last was said with a smirk.

Dean smiled at his sister. "Also, they didn't love you enough, right?"

"Right Dean. They didn't love me like you do and I didn't love them at all. They weren't _you_." Sam pressed a kiss to Dean's perfect lips. "No more chick-flick moments, Dean. Let's get some sleep." Sam yawned and curled closer to Dean's body. Within moments, they were both asleep.

Sam watched as Dean loaded their duffel bags into the back seat of the Impala. She could watch him bent over in tight jeans all damn day and not get bored.

"Stop staring at my ass, Sammy." Dean yelled from the car.

Sam looked startled when Dean turned his head to grin at her over his shoulder. "Can you still read my mind?" Sam asked in shock.

The impish grin that Sam loved to see on Dean's face turned into a smirk as he answered, "I just know you, Sammy. I know you can't resist my perfect ass."


	3. Changes in Attitude

The steady thwack of Dean's machete was beginning to get on Sam's nerves. Don't get her wrong, she was glad that Dean's strong muscles were getting the workout instead of hers, but they had been trudging through swamp for hours.

Mud had worked its way into every piece of Sam's clothing. Her toes squished in her boots. Her jeans and shirt were the same monochromatic tan as her hands, face, and hair. Sam wondered why people always disappeared 'mysteriously' in places that were so disgusting or hard to reach.

In the past few months, Sam and Dean had hiked up a mountain, trudged through sewers, crawled into ductwork, and now they were in the Okefenokee Swamp. If the creature from the black lagoon didn't get them, gators would.

A swarm of mosquitoes seemed intent on draining Sam of all her blood. She contemplated pulling out holy water and a crucifix to see if they weren't actually _tiny_ vampires, but she didn't want to draw Dean's attention. It was way past time when she should have taken over trail blazing.

As Sam tipped her head back to gulp more water from her canteen, Dean let out a short "Gaaahhh" and slipped out of view. The relatively dry ground that they had been walking on had dropped off into a deep pool.

Unlike the other swamp water they had encountered, this pool seemed clear and fresh. It didn't reek of sulphur and wasn't weed infested. Sam laughed at Dean and reached down to take his hand. "That's one way to get the mud off." She quipped.

Dean allowed Sam to help him out of the small pond. "At least it's clean. It must be spring fed." Dean replied.

A narrow beam of sunlight speared through the pond-cypress trees and lit Dean like a spotlight. "Huh." Sam commented. She was looking at Dean in puzzlement. The quick dip in the spring had cleaned a lot of mud off of Dean. Maybe that was why his hair looked lighter; more like the blond he had until his late teens. Maybe that was why his skin looked clean and smooth. Maybe that was why he was exactly her height instead of 3 inches taller.

"Oh Shit, Dean." Sam blurted. "I think you just found the fountain of youth."

Dean scowled at Sam and said, "Very funny, Sammy. I'm soaked and I'm never gonna get dry in this humidity. It's your turn with the machete." His voice was not high pitched, but it didn't have the gruff timbre Sam was used to.

Sam just continued to stare at Dean. Her mouth was hanging open in puzzlement, and she was eying him up and down. "No seriously, Dean, I think you are like 15 or 16 years old. Tops." She replied with a smirk.

As his wet jeans started to slide down his narrower hips, Dean looked down at himself in fear. "Oh my God, Sammy, I'm shrinking!" He yelled.

Sam watched Dean to be sure, but she thought he was no longer reverse-aging. His features were not changing and he wasn't getting any shorter. "I think it stopped. You're not getting any younger. Ummm…. I think it may only work if you are submerged."

Dean pulled his belt to the  
tightest holes and bent over to roll the legs of his jeans into cuffs. He the stood straight and said, "Alright, let's find those missing hikers."

Sam could tell that Dean was not ready to face what was happening to him, but that didn't mean she would let him ignore it. "No way, Dean. We are getting back to the motel and calling Bobby. We need to know if this is permanent or is going to wear off."

For a moment, it looked like Dean was going to argue with her, but then he shrugged and said, "Fine. I could use a shower. I think I still have mud in my ass crack." As Sam absorbed the changes in Dean's physical appearance, she took solace in the fact that his personality seemed the same.

Spn spn

Sam could see anger and frustration bubble to the surface again as Dean had to adjust the Impala's seat so that he could drive. Sam had suggested that she should drive since none of his fake id's had his current likeness on them, but the sullen glare and "No" that Dean barked at her made Sam resign herself to being a passenger.

The drive to the motel was not a long one, but the itch of drying mud made it seem interminable. As soon as she entered the motel room, Sam began stripping off her dirty clothes and headed to the bathroom. She was not aware that Dean had followed her until he slid into the shower behind her.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Sam sputtered. She turned to face him and backed into the wall.

She hadn't realized just how much Dean had changed until he was naked in front of her. Dean was almost exactly her height. Sam was used to looking up into Dean's eyes due to a 3 inch height difference. Now, he was _maybe_ half an inch taller than her. His shoulders weren't as broad, but they still had good muscle definition. His hips were much narrower, but his face was the most changed.

Dean's younger face was almost baby soft. Sam had forgotten just how full his plush lips had been as a teenager. His wide, green eyes were still framed by thick, dark lashes, but they no longer had the fine lines at the corners that gave Dean an air of maturity. His jaw wasn't as heavy and his hair was more dirty blond than brown. Dean no longer had his customary stubble, and his freckles dusted over perfectly smooth skin.

It had been at least ten years since Dean had looked like this. If she had to guess, Sam would peg his physical age at 16, but the rest of the world might think he was younger than that. He was just so damn _pretty_. Sam was not surprised to find that his new, younger form did not turn her on at all. As a matter of fact, she was more than a little uncomfortable with the lust she could see in Dean's eyes as he reached for her.

Sam tried to cover her breasts with one arm while blocking Dean's advances with her other. "I don't think this is a good idea." She told him.

The look of mixed surprise and hurt that filled Dean's eyes was almost unbearable. "I'm sorry, Dean. I just don't … I mean, you're not… that is… I'm not a pedophile!" Sam managed to gasp out.

"I'm not a little kid!" Dean exclaimed. With a resigned huff, he muttered, "Fine. At least let me wash the mud off."

Sam nodded. "Sure. I'll even wash you back for you if you want."

Dean glared at her and answered, "No thanks, I would want you to molest my innocent little body."

They showered in silence and it was just a few minutes before Dean left the shower, dried off, and exited the bathroom. Sam hadn't meant to hurt Dean's feelings, but the thought of being sexy with a 16 year old really made her sick.

When Sam joined Dean in the motel room, he was already sitting on the bed wearing baggy sleep pants and a tee shirt. The sight made Sam feel guilty, because he had been sleeping either naked or in just boxers since Valentine's day. Seeing him dressed the way he did when their relationship was still screwed up made Sam's stomach clench.

Sam dressed in her own sleep outfit of loose shorts and a tee shirt. Their motel room had just one king size bed in it, so Sam climbed onto it next to Dean. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet on the dirty motel carpet. His arms were crossed on his chest and his shoulders were slumped.

Dean was studying his feet and legs. "Is this really what I looked like when I was 16?" He asked.

Sam had only been 12 or 13 when Dean was actually in his mid-teens, but her memories of Dean's appearance matched closely with what she was seeing now. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure you look just like you did then. Why?" Sam answered.

Dean's shoulders slumped and he scrubbed one hand over his face. "I really thought I was such a bad-ass, back then. No wonder Dad's friends didn't take me seriously."

Sam thought back to her preteen years. "I don't know, Dean. I seem to remember thinking you were tough as nails. You were a better hunter than most of those guys by the time you were 12."

"I can't even go out and get a beer like this, Sammy." Dean huffed. "I can't hustle pool or cards. I could probably find some pervert to fuck me in an alley, but you won't touch me." He continued.

Sam really didn't want to think about how Dean knew perverts would want to take advantage of his younger body. She decided to save that discussion for another time. "I'm sorry. Just, I don't know… give me a minute to get used to this. OK?" Sam spoke to Dean as she reached out to run her hand down his back. She thought it was a good sign that he leaned back into her touch.

"I'm not 16, you know." Dean stated. He looked over his shoulder at Sam and answered the question in her eyes. "I _look_ 16, but I'm still 26. I'm still me in here. I just look young. I mean… this is just my body, not _me_."

Sam wasn't sure where he was going with this, but she answered Dean anyway. "I know." She said and moved up behind Dean so that she could rest her head on the nape of his neck and wrap her arms around his (kind of skinny) chest.

Dean wasn't always good at saying what he was feeling, but he tried again. "What I mean is, I thought you loved me, not my body." Sam squeezed him tighter and replied, "I do love you." Dean shook his head. "You don't want me in _this_ body. What if I'm scarred in a hunt? Would you still want me then? Or if I lose a hand, or get fat, or get old and grey? Will you decide you don't want any of those bodies either?"

As tears welled in his eyes and his throat got tighter, Dean's voice had started to sound gruff, like it usually did. Sam sat with her nose pressed into the hair on the back of Dean's head and breathed in his smell. Sam realized that Dean was right. She loved _him_, not the body he was in. Well, he had a smoking hot bod, but she knew she was going to love him no matter what he looked like.

Sam pressed her lips to the back of Dean's neck. "You're right." She nipped at the skin behind his ear and sucked on the side of his neck. "We can deal with this. I do love you, no matter what."

Dean's lust filled groan may not have been as deep as it normally was, but it still sent a shiver of arousal straight down Sam's spine. "Can I kiss you?" She asked.

Dean's answer was to twist in her arms and push Sam backwards onto the bed. He supported himself on one elbow and gently cupped Sam's face with his free hand. Sam tried not to think about how young he looked as she stared up into his brilliant green eyes.

"You can close your eyes, if you want to." Dean murmured into Sam's ear.

Sam shook her head and replied, "No. I'm not gonna pretend with you."

The kiss began gentle as if Dean was giving Sam the chance to change her mind. His lips brushed across Sam's before pressing more firmly. Dean's tongue flicked out to swipe at Sam's mouth and she welcomed the intrusion. As the kiss became more passionate, Sam realized she was kissing _Dean_. It really sank in that he may look different, but he was still the man she loved.

Large hands began to slide across Sam's body as Dean explored her body. Sam had been so focused on how Dean had changed that she really hadn't taken the time to see how he was the same. He smelled the same. His kiss was the same. His hands were the same. Sam inched her hand down Dean's body toward the erection that was pressed firmly against her hip.

Sam managed to slide her hand into Dean's sleep pants and around his cock. She had decided that it was another body part that remained unchanged and gave it a squeeze. Dean gave a deep moan and shuddered against Sam's body. Warm stickiness coated her hand. Dean had just had an orgasm from _one_ brush of her fingers.

A pink flush crept up Dean's face as he blushed from embarrassment. "Oh my God, I had forgotten what a hair trigger I had at 16, but I swear I can get it up again in before you can say _refractory period_."

Sam looked awkwardly at her jizz covered hand. "I'm just gonna go wash this," She said, "and Dean, get naked while I'm gone. I want to see if I can break my record for how many times I make you cum in one night." Sam smirked at Dean.

Spn spn

_A few weeks later_

Dean woke slowly and stretched until his spine popped. He was glad that his body had returned to 'normal' within a week of his swim in the fountain of youth, but some minor aches and pains had returned with his years.

He rolled over to snuggle with Sammy and came face to face with a very large, naked man. Dean grabbed the knife from under his pillow and yelled, "Hey!" at the sleeping man. Wide hazel eyes blinked at Dean and the man said, "Dean. What the fuck!"

As the man clutched at his throat and stared down at his body, Dean realized that the man was Sammy. She or _he_ was a large, muscular, _naked_ man. As strange as he looked, it was still obviously Sam. He had Sam's rich brown hair, but it only fell to his shoulders. Sam's nose looked oddly small on the man's face. His lips pinched into the 'bitch-face' that Sam always made. The eyes were the same changeable hazel that Dean was used to seeing. Sam leapt off the bed and ran to the bathroom.

From the closed bathroom door, Dean heard, "I **hate** witches!" Dean asked, "Sammy, can I come in?"

A yelled, "No!" was Sam's first response, but she continued, "Hold on… just give me a minute." Dean could hear heavy breathing and was worried that Sam was going to hyperventilate.

Sam stared at herself (_himself_) in the mirror. She tried to reconcile the man in the mirror with her own concept of _self_. She was now a very tall, very muscular, very _hot_ man. "Dean, I'm super sexy!" She yelled to the closed door. She could hear Dean's muffled, "Um… OK."

Sam opened the door a crack so that she could hear Dean better. "No, seriously, dude." Sam continued. "I'm like totally ripped. I have muscles I didn't even know existed. I think my abs are an 8-pack!" Sam was becoming enthusiastic in her glowing review of her new body. "Dean, I'm definitely taller than you."

If Sam had seen her man-self walking down the street, she would have drooled. She felt a new heaviness in her groin and saw her growing erection in the mirror. "Ha! I think 'Little Sammy' is bigger than the 'Dean Bone', too!" Sam exclaimed.

"Jeez Sammy, I don't want to know that." Dean replied through the door.

Sam opened the door fully and watched as Dean's eyes grew wide at her aroused state. "You're gonna know when I'm pounding into your tight ass." was Sam's response.

Dean looked horrified. "You're not getting anywhere near me with that thing Sammy! It's a goddamn monster."

Sam hoped that puppy-dog eyes worked as well in her man form as they did in her girl body. She pulled her eyebrows together and opened her eyes wide. "Are you saying you won't love me in this body, Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean groaned and answered, "We're gonna need lube. " He took another look at Sam's enormous dick. "Lots and lots of lube."


	4. Weekend at Bobby's

The cordless phone labelled "Batphone" was cradled between Bobby's ear and shoulder. Dean had thought it was hilarious when he had put the strip of tape with the handwritten letters onto the handset. Bobby would have peeled it off, but he thought it was sort of cute, too. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone, especially Dean.

"Just get your asses here as soon as possible. I haven't seen you kids in too long and I want to make sure your new anti-possession tattoos are demon proof. I'm not sure I trust Little Dave's skills like I did his father's." Bobby listened to Sam's answer and smiled. "OK. I'll see you early next week."

It really had been a while since the Winchester siblings had graced his home with their presence and he did want to check out their new tattoos, but Bobby wanted to see Sam and Dean for other reasons, too.

Bobby had been hearing some gossip. Rumours had begun to swirl about the Winchesters that made Bobby uncomfortable. Some of his older hunter acquaintances had contacted Bobby directly because they knew how close he was to John and the kids. Others had sidled up to him in bars or on jobs sharing innuendo and watching for his reaction.

Bobby had heard fairly mild comments such as "I've never seen a brother so protective of his sister. Dean doesn't let her out of his sight for one minute, does he?" Bobby had also heard sickening comments like, "I can't blame Dean. I'd fuck my sister, too, if she looked like Sam."

At first, Bobby had dismissed the comments outright, but they had been getting more persistent in the past few months. It was time for Bobby to see for himself if there was something odd going on with the Winchesters.

Sam swiped her thumb across her phone to end the call with Bobby. She rolled onto her side to deposit the phone next to the lamp on the bedside table and then snuggled back into Dean's arms. Dean lifted the remote control and turned the volume back up on the movie they were watching on a crappy little motel room television.

"If we finish up the salt-n-burn early enough tomorrow, we can be at Bobby's by Monday." Sam said from where she was curled in the curve of Dean's arm. She was excited to see Bobby again, but also a little nervous. She and Dean had not stayed at Bobby's since fixing their relationship.

Most people would view the physical aspects of Sam and Dean's relationship with disgust. After all, incest was frowned upon by society as a whole. The fact that Sam and Dean were brother and sister would blind most people to the unconditional love, trust, and respect that they had for each other. Adding sex to their relationship had only made it stronger and better, but outsiders would definitely not see it as "fixing" it.

Sam and Dean had tried their best to act like a "normal" brother and sister pair when around other people, but it wasn't always easy. It was OK for Dean to act like a protective older brother to keep men from flirting with Sam, but Sam wasn't very good at hiding her jealousy when women hit on Dean. As a matter of fact, Sam may have tried to claw the eyes out of the last woman that grabbed Dean's ass at a bar.

Once, Sam had to pretend to be giving Dean mouth to mouth resuscitation when another hunter stumbled over them in a grave yard. And the bathrooms at Harvelle's Roadhouse may not be as soundproof as Sam and Dean had hoped if the looks they got from Ash were any indication.

Even though Sam was not ashamed of Dean in _any_ way, she still didn't want Bobby finding out what was going on between them. She cared about Bobby too much to see the disappointment and disgust on Bobby's face if he knew what they were up to.

The sound of gravel crunching under the Impala's tires woke Sam as Dean pulled onto Bobby's property.

"Are we at Bobby's already?" Sam asked from where her head rested on Dean's shoulder.

Dean huffed in amusement. "What do you mean 'already'? You've been drooling on my shoulder for three hours."

A surreptitious swipe let Sam know that her chin was dry. "I don't drool, Jerk." She turned her head to nip at Dean's neck.

Dean kissed the top of Sam's head and puffed a breath of hot air through her hair. "We're almost to the house. You'd better get back to your side of the car.

Sam backed away from Dean and slid across the bench seat until she was leaning on the passenger door.

The purr of the Impala's engine alerted Bobby to the arrival of the Winchester siblings. He left his half-drunk beer on the kitchen counter and walked to the front of the house. He opened the front door in time to hear Sam and Dean having one of their typical squabbles.

Dean was shoving Sam's duffel bag toward his sister who was refusing to take it. "I told you that if you insisted on packing all of the towels and mini shampoo in my bag that you would have to carry it. You get to lug all your pilfered goods up the steps to our room." Sam had her arms crossed over her chest and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

"Oh come on, Sammy, you're the one who uses all the shampoo and conditioner with your ridiculous hair." Dean glared at his sister, but a small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

Sam laughed. "You love my hair." She grabbed her duffel from Dean's hand and snarked, "I'll carry my bag, but you get to carry the weapons bag. I swear that thing gets heavier every time I lift it." She turned toward the house and finally noticed Bobby standing there. "Bobby!" Sam yelled. She dropped her bag and bolted up the porch steps to grab Bobby in a bear hug.

After receiving a hug in return, Sam released Bobby and went back to the car to retrieve her duffel. She watched Dean and Bobby exchanged a manly handshake, shoulder bump combo thingy before following the men into the house.

As the siblings started to carry their stuff up the stairs, Bobby cleared his throat. "I uh… I cleared out the front room and put a bed in there. I thought you guys might be more comfortable if you had your own rooms." Bobby watched Sam and Dean closely for their reaction.

Sam froze. She knew if she protested that they could share a room like they always had, it might give Bobby ideas. She didn't think he suspected anything; he was probably just trying to be nice. Sam jabbed her elbow into Dean's side and said, "Great! I won't have to listen to Dean's snoring. Dibs on the new room!" She turned and darted past Dean on the stairs, racing him to the top.

Dean lunged after his sister. "No way! I get the front bedroom. The old one is closer to the bathroom and you know you get up twice a night to pee." He yelled.

Bobby watched as Sam and Dean squabbled over who should get the new bedroom. He shook his head and returned to the kitchen to finish his beer. As far as he could tell, the Winchesters were acting the same as they always did; like five-year-old children. He sat at his table, listening to the muffled thumps and curses that floated down from where Sam and Dean fought over the new bedroom.

As Bobby prepared to grill steaks for dinner, Dean made his way into the kitchen and sat, slumped at the table. "Where's your sister?" Bobby asked.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, "She's putting her stuff away in the new bedroom."

Bobby laughed, "Let me guess. Rock, paper, scissors?"

"So, did you want to check my anti-demon tattoo now or after dinner?" Dean rubbed his fingers across his tee-shirt where it covered his new ink.

Bobby responded, "After dinner will be fine. I'll check Sam's at the same time." Bobby hesitated. "She got hers in the same place you have yours?" He asked. Bobby really didn't want to check out Sam's ass or tits. Knowing Sam, it could be anywhere.

A quick shake of Dean's head had Bobby nervous. Dean said, "Hers is on her back. It's over her spine between her shoulder blades. She had some long, boring explanation about Chakras, or something. I kind of tuned it out."

To be honest, Dean had been happy with where Sam put her tattoo. He liked to kiss and lick it when he was spooned around her cuddling or when he was taking her from behind. As heat began to rise up his neck, Dean realized he needed to derail that train of thought before Bobby wondered why he was flushed.

Bobby nodded and asked, "Is your sister going to want a steak, or is she still eating nothing but rabbit food?"

Dean laughed. "She'll eat one of your steaks, Bobby, but I'll help you fix a salad to go with it." Before long, Sam clomped her way down the steps to help set the table for dinner. Dean could not help thinking how nice it was to have a 'family' dinner together. He didn't notice Bobby frowning as Sam's fingers lingered too long on Dean's as she passed him the salt. Dean thought he was very subtle as he wiped crumbs off Sam's bottom lip with his thumb.

Bobby hoped he was reading too much into the small touches that he had seen Dean and Sam share during dinner. He hoped they were just being nice to each other to make up for the fight over the bedroom.

"All right kids, come into my office so I can check out your new ink." Bobby ordered after dinner. "Just leave your dishes, I'll get them later." Bobby walked to his inner sanctum and started to pull out holy water, herbs, and crystals. "This should be easy and painless." He stated.

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks. "Should be painless?" Dean wondered aloud.

Bobby grinned. "If they're done right, it won't hurt one bit."

As it turns out, Little Dave had done a perfect job on the tattoos, and Sam and Dean felt no pain when Bobby tested the designs for flaws. Bobby had not really thought there was anything wrong, anyway. During the 'testing' process, Bobby had used holy water to check for current demon possession, and both Winchesters were clean. Also, neither was a shapeshifter. The crystal flared for a curse on Sam, and Bobby asked about it.

Sam looked embarrassed for a moment before explaining. "Yeah…. I um…. kind of turn into a man for three days a month under the new moon. It's a witch thing. It doesn't really bother me." She refused to make eye contact with Bobby.

Bobby's jaw dropped. "Well, that explains why Ellen told me Dean was hunting with a man every once in a while." Bobby slammed his hand on his desk. "Balls! You should have told me. I've wasted two months putting together a file on this _new_ hunter. You know Jo has a huge crush on you?"

A bright red flush crept up Sam's neck. "I've tried to discourage her. I swear." She muttered.

After running every test he could think of, Bobby pronounced the Winchesters clean of any other curses or demonic activity.

Bobby had to conclude that any odd behaviour on the part of Sam and/or Dean was naturally occurring and not supernatural in origin. He would just have to keep his eyes open for anything strange. He was beginning to believe that he was going to have to warn the pair that rumours were going around about the two of them. That was going to be one awkward conversation.

Dawn was just breaking when Bobby started coffee brewing in the kitchen. He had always been an early riser unlike the Winchesters. That was why he was surprised to hear the floorboards creaking upstairs.

As quiet as he could and avoiding the squeaky stair treads, Bobby made his way to the second floor. He could hear voices coming from Sam's bedroom.

"Get that thing away from me, Dean. I'm not touching it." Bobby heard Sam say. His eyebrows began to rise in astonishment as he heard Dean's reply. "Come on, Sammy. Just give it a little squeeze for me. You know I can't sleep with it like this."

Bobby tiptoed closer to the door.

"It's disgusting. I can't believe you are asking me to do this again. I told you I wasn't going to ever again." Bobby's head was reeling. Had Dean been forcing himself on his sister? He heard Dean say, "If you use a tissue, it won't get on your hands."

That was enough for Bobby. He threw the door open and stepped into the room. "What are you two idjits doing?" He demanded. Two heads swivelled towards him. Sam was pressed against the bedroom wall at the farthest corner of the bed. She had a quilt pulled up to her chin. Dean was perched on the edge of the bed with his back to Sam. He had his tee shirt pulled up over his shoulder exposing his back.

Sam kicked at Dean with her feet and said, "Make Bobby do it." Dean twisted slightly so that Bobby could see the enormous zit on his shoulder blade.

"Bobby…." Dean whined.

Bobby shook his head. "I'm not touching that."

Dean looked exasperated. "For fuck's sake! Somebody squeeze this damn pimple for me so I can go back to sleep. It's inhuman to be awake at the ass crack of dawn."

Bobby wasn't sure how he got sucked into these things. He should have just minded his own business and stayed downstairs. That's what he gets for listening to sordid gossip. He plucked several tissues from the box on the bedside table and squeezed Dean's back zit.

"Get dressed and come downstairs. I'll make us bacon and eggs for breakfast." Bobby said.

As Bobby walked out the door, Dean and Sam exchanged looks. They hoped he hadn't noticed that Dean's bedroom door was open and that his bed hadn't been slept in. He also hadn't noticed that Sam was naked under the quilt.

"Why do you think he came up here?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. I'm just glad I put on pants and a tee shirt before I tried to pop my zit by myself in the bathroom. I don't even want to think about how he would have reacted if he had found me naked on your bed." Dean looked shaken.

Sam looked sad. "We either need to tell him about us, or we need to be a lot more careful." She told Dean.

Dean shook his head. "If we tell him, there's a good chance he won't want to have anything to do with us ever again. We could lose him as family."

Sam agreed with Dean but she argued, "I think he must suspect something. The way he barged into the room like that; he may have heard some of the rumours going around about us. I don't like keeping secrets from him, Dean."

Dean hugged his sister. He pushed his nose into her hair and breathed her in. He could hear pots and pans clanging from the kitchen and birds singing with the dawn. He wished he could stay like this forever, but he pushed away from Sam.

"OK. Get your stuff packed in case we have to leave in a hurry. We'll tell him after breakfast." Dean went downstairs to help Bobby cook.

Breakfast was a very quiet meal. Bobby and the Winchesters were all lost in their own thoughts. Bobby dragged a piece of toast through the last bits of egg yolk on his plate before clearing his throat. "I'm sorry for busting into your room this morning, Sam." He apologized.

Sam nodded, "That's alright, Bobby. No harm, no foul."

A scowl formed on Bobby's face. "Yeah, but a young lady is entitled to her privacy. I don't even know what I was thinking." Bobby blushed and stammered, "Actually, I know what I was thinking and it's embarrassing as hell. You guys should know that I've been hearing some pretty nasty rumours about you two. I don't even know where to start."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances over the table. "What sort of rumours?" Dean asked while maintaining a blank expression. It was difficult to maintain eye contact, knowing that he might have to lie outright to Bobby.

With a shake of his head, Bobby stood and moved his dirty dishes to the sink. "Never mind. It's not anything you need to hear."

Sam and Dean cleared their own dishes and moved to the living room to relax and wait for the right moment to talk to Bobby. Dean heard Bobby yell, "I'm going to run some errands, I'll be back late. Don't wait up."

With a tug, Dean pulled Sam closer to his side where they were sitting on the couch watching TV. He could tell that Bobby's reaction to the gossip about their relationship was bothering her. Sam had always wanted to be _normal_ even when they were kids.

It filled Dean with remorse, sometimes. He would think about all the things Sammy had wanted growing up. She had wanted to live in a house with a picket fence and a dog. She had wanted to graduate from college. She had wanted to get married and have kids. Dean knew that she would never have any of those things as long as she was with him.

Sometimes Dean considered leaving. He could just hit the road and not look back. Sam would live with Bobby or Ellen for a while and then decide to go back to school. She would get her law degree and make a real difference in the world. She would meet another lawyer who worked defending the wrongly accused and they would get married. She would have kids and name one of her sons Dean.

Dean knew it would be best for Sam if he was strong enough to walk away. But he wasn't. The thought of never seeing Sam again was too painful for Dean to face. He knew that he would not survive it. Before he pulled Sam away from Stanford, Dean had been on the verge of 'suicide by vampire.' He had been taking chances with his own life because he could no longer live alone.

Sam stirred beside Dean. "You're thinking too loud." She said. "Are you worried about Bobby?"

Dean responded, "No. Bobby loves us. He may not be happy when he finds out, but he'll learn to accept them. He'll probably be angrier that we kept this from him than anything else."

"What's got you so frowned up, then? I can feel your scowl." Sam pestered Dean for answers.

Instead of telling Sam what he had really been thinking, about how empty he had been without her, Dean began to tell Sam other things that he had been keeping secret. "Did you know that I used to jerk off with your pillow over my face so that I could smell you when I came?" He asked.

"No. No, I think I would have remembered you telling me that. Was this last week or sometime before then?"

Dean laughed. "It was when you were sixteen and seventeen. At first I had convinced myself that your pillow was better for muffling my noises. I only did it every once in a while until _that_ summer. Once I knew what you really felt like, I couldn't come unless I could smell you and pretend you were with me."

Sam looked surprised. "I would say that was pretty creepy except I would steal your tee shirts out of the dirty laundry to do the same thing." She looked over at Dean and grinned. "As a matter of fact I have your Dark Side of the Moon tee shirt under my pillow in case you decide to sleep in your own bed."

Dean looked thoughtful. "I've been wondering where that was." He stuck his nose into his sister's hair and breathed deep. "Did you know that I would drive to Stanford whenever I was close enough just to spy on you and make sure you were OK?"

"I wish you would have shown yourself to me. I wish you had talked to me or called me instead of sneaking around. I thought you hated me." Sam's voice was tight with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry Sammy. I didn't know you thought that. I knew you didn't hate me, but I thought that you _should_. I thought I was a monster that you needed protection from. I knew that if I could just stay away from you, you would get the life you always wanted. In the end I was just too weak. I couldn't live without you anymore."

"Damn it, Dean. What is it with you and the whole 'life you always wanted' bullshit. Do you really think I want the same things today that I wanted when I was fifteen?" Sam twisted on the couch and crawled onto Dean; straddling his lap. "Look at me. When I was fifteen I wanted to stay in a town long enough to make friends and go to parties, maybe even get a boyfriend. I wanted to grow my hair long even though Dad said it was too dangerous for hunting. I wanted slumber parties and pillow fights. I am _totally_ not concerned with those things anymore."

Sam grasped Dean's chin in her fingers and forced him to make eye contact. "I don't want a _boyfriend_ anymore. I have _you_. I have friends like Jo, Ellen, Ash, Bobby, and Missouri. I don't want to stay in one town, because all of my friends are in different towns. I like travelling around seeing the people I care about and doing our job. I like knowing that we are keeping them safe."

Sam sighed and leaned her forehead against Dean's. "I wish I could keep you safe. I wish you never got hurt, but I know our life is dangerous. I'll always have your back, Dean. I can't live without you, either."

Dean began to run his hands up and down Sam's back. "We could quit all this, Sammy. I would do it for you. I would do _anything_ for you."

"I know, Dean. I know. I'm happy with how things are, though. Aren't you happy, Babe?"

Dean smirked. "I would be happier if I didn't have a Sasquatch crushing my legs."

Sam shifted closer to her brother until she was pressed firmly against his hardening cock and growled, "Better?"

A quick kiss was followed by Dean saying, "Upstairs," and pushing Sam off his lap. They raced up the steps and into Sam's bedroom. Sam fell backwards onto the bed, pulling Dean down on to of herself. Dean landed with most of his weight on his elbows, so that he didn't crush his sister.

One of Dean's muscular thighs pressed between Sam's legs while Dean bent his head to kiss her. "I love you, Sammy." He murmured against her lips.

Sam grinned. "Do you love me more than pie?" She asked. Dean hummed an affirmative while licking a stripe up Sam's neck. "Do you love me more than flamethrowers?" She asked. Dean answered, "Yep" before biting lightly against Sam's collar bone. Sam whispered, "Do you love me more than the Impala?" Dean laughed and looked Sam in the eyes before answering, "Yeah, Sammy. I love you more than my car, but don't tell her I said so."

Sam wiggled until she could reach up with her right hand and run her fingers through Dean's hair. On days like today, when he didn't put any gel in it, it was super soft. Sam loved to touch it. The sun was shining through her window and Sam could see every freckle on Dean's face. She could also see a faint scar that ran from his eyebrow to his hairline across his forehead. Sam didn't like to dwell on how many times she had almost lost Dean in the past year. Instead, she stared deeply into his green eyes and smiled at him.

"What?" Dean could never understand why Sammy stared at him.

"You are beautiful." Sam whispered, her eyes never leaving Dean's. She loved the way his blush made his freckles stand out in stark relief. Dean broke eye contact and shrugged. He could accept shallow compliments from strangers much more easily than he could accept genuine admiration from Sam. She rolled them until Dean was on his back supported by pillows.

Sam kissed Dean on the end of his nose, then his cheek, then his chin. She began to trail kisses down his neck and across his collar bones. Sam reached down and lifted the bottom of Dean's shirt until his torso was exposed. She rose to her knees and crawled backwards down Dean's body, trailing kisses, licks, and soft bites.

She used her hands to open Dean's belt and jeans. He lifted his hips enough that Sam could pull his jeans and boxer briefs low enough to free his straining cock. Sam sat back on her heels and ran her hand down Dean's chest and abs before trailing fingertips across his erection. "Look at you. You are so fucking gorgeous. I'll never get tired of seeing you so ready for me." Sam bent over and tongued a stripe up Dean's hard on where it rested on his belly. She licked across the head and tasted the first few drops of pre-cum.

Dean groaned and gripped his hands into the sheets at his sides. He fought not to let his hips buck up into Sam's face. She gripped his cock at the base and plunged her mouth down over it. Dean stopped breathing for a moment before shuddering and releasing a filthy moan. Sam sucked hard before releasing Dean with a pop. "Auditioning for porn?" Sam asked with a grin.

"Fuck, Sammy. That thing you do with your tongue!" Dean wiggled his hips trying to thrust into Sam's hand. Sam smiled. She could flip her tongue upside down from side to side. When her mouth was full of his cock, it caused the back of her tongue to rub sideways across Dean's frenulum. He really liked it. He liked it just as much as when she licked and sucked on his balls.

Sam had finally convinced Dean of the benefits of 'manscaping' by having a 'hair-free scrotum' appreciation night. Honestly, Sam could spend hours watching Dean's sack contract into hard wrinkles when she blew on it or relax into smoothness when she licked and warmed it. It was endlessly fascinating, but that could wait for another time.

Sam put her mouth back on her brother's dick and bobbed a few times before taking it in as far as she could. Dean writhed on the bed, gasping for air, as Sam used her tongue to massage his cock. Sam pumped her fist around the thick base until Dean moaned, "Stop…. Stop… I'm close."

Dean sat up and flipped Sam onto her stomach. He pulled her sweat pants down over her ass and reached between them to finger her pussy. "So wet, Sammy." He muttered while he worked her clit with his thumb. They were both still mostly dressed in shirts with their pants pulled down to their knees, but Dean couldn't wait anymore to enter his sister.

He pushed Sam's knees a little wider and lined himself up with her hole. One smooth thrust was all it took to fill Sam's tight wet cunt with his hard length. They both groaned at the sensation. Dean was hunched over Sam's back, supporting his weight with his left hand on the mattress. He reached around with his right to lightly rub at Sam's clit while he slowly slid his penis in and out of her body.

With her back arched, Sam rocked on Dean's dick trying to speed their rhythm up. "So impatient, baby girl." Dean crooned at Sam's back. He increased their pace. It was only moments before Sam was breaking apart around him. The walls of her pussy squeezed and fluttered so tightly around his cock that he quickly followed Sam into orgasm.

After easing Sam onto her side and cleaning them both up with tissues and baby wipes, Dean helped Sam rearrange her clothing. He spooned up behind her and immersed himself in her scent and heat. Dean would be content to lounge, cuddle and fuck all day, but Sam asked, "Did you want help working on the Impala today?" Her question reminded Dean that he had planned to change baby's oil and filters today. He also needed to clean out her fuel lines and carburator.

"You don't have to, but I wouldn't mind the company." Dean answered. He could happily spend the afternoon working on Baby by himself, lost in the satisfying, hands-on work, but he would never turn away an opportunity to spend time with Sam, either.

Sam slipped Dean's hand from her waist and sat up. "OK. You head on out. I'll make us some sandwiches and join you in a little bit." She then leaned over Dean and ran her hands through his hair. She gave him a quick peck on the lips and whispered, "Love you, Babe."

After spending the afternoon 'helping' Dean work on his car, Sam spent a quiet evening of drinking beer and watching TV on the sofa, cuddled up to her brother's side. Bobby did not return before they retired to Sam's bed for the night, and she was worried that he was trying to dig up info on the rumours he had been hearing.

Unfortunately for Sam, it was the new moon. Sam woke with 'morning wood', rutting against Dean's ass. "That better be you, Sammy." Dean grumbled from where he was trapped in a tangle of Sam's muscular arms and legs. Sam huffed a laugh against the back of his brother's neck while reaching between Dean's legs. He was pleased to find that Dean was hard and already leaking pre-cum.

"Did you miss me?" Sam growled before biting lightly on Dean's earlobe. Dean's cock twitched as Dean moaned, "Shut up, Sammy." Dean was reluctantly altering his idea of _self_ from 'straight as an arrow' to 'possibly bi-sexual.' If he had to put a name to it, he would choose 'Sam-sexual.' After all, he had not developed _any_ desire to let _anyone_ else fuck him in the ass.

There was just something about Sam. Dean's _brother_ was fucking huge. He was all long, hard muscles and floppy hair. He was strong enough to manhandle Dean in a way that Dean found surprisingly hot. Sam had once fucked into Dean while holding him face first against a wall. Dean had started on his toes, but by the time he had come spurting over hideous wallpaper, his feet had not been touching the floor. It was in the top ten hardest orgasms he had ever had.

Just thinking about how Sam had held him up with one arm wrapped around his chest and his other hand jerking his dick, had Dean thrusting into Sam's loose fist. Dean groaned, "Lube" and began to work his boxers down his hips and legs.

While Sam pulled off his own sleep clothes and fetched the lube from the bedside table, Dean rolled lazily onto his stomach and spread his legs. He pillowed his head on his folded arms and watched Sam's eyes fill with lust at the sight of Dean's naked body. "Are you just gonna sit there, or are you gonna prep me?" Dean asked.

Sam growled at Dean, "You are such a pushy bottom, Dean. Maybe I want you to fuck me this time. Hmmm?"

Dean frowned. "I just fucked you last night. You know I want this. Don't make me beg, Sammy." Dean looked forward to the three days a month that he could be stuffed full of Sam's gargantuan cock. Dean was no small fry himself, but Sammy's dick was enough to give any man a complex. It was long, thick, and un-cut. It filled Dean's ass until he thought he would split in two, rubbing and massaging his prostate with every thrust.

Dean rutted against the sheets while waiting impatiently for Sam to slick his fingers and get to prepping. The first time Sam had fucked Dean as a man, Dean had been a nervous wreck. Neither of them had known much about prepping or positions other than 'doggy style.' It hadn't taken long for Sam to do some serious 'research' involving lots of gay porn.

The second time Sam fucked Dean had been a revelation. Dean had come so hard he thought his balls were going to explode. After that, they experimented with Dean fucking Sam, but neither had liked it as much. Sam had declared that it just made him miss his vagina, and Dean had missed having Sam's cock shoved up his ass. Since then, Dean had bottomed while Sam topped. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Dean's train of thought was completely derailed when Sam started working slick fingers into Dean's ass. Sam smirked when his older brother began to moan and squirm. Sam would never have pegged (pun intended) Dean for a cock slut, but he took Sam's fingers and dick like a pro. He didn't really like for Sam to play with his ass when Sam was her normal, female self, but Dean loved it when he knew he would soon be full of his baby _brother's_ hard cock.

Within minutes, Dean was begging to be fucked. He writhed on the bed, grinding his dick into the sheets. Sam pulled Dean up onto his knees and lined his erection up to Dean's entrance. "Ready for me Baby?" Sam asked.

"For FUCK sake, Sammy. Get in me NOW!" Dean almost yelled. Sam did as Dean asked and slid into his brother with a moan. Dean arched back into Sam's thrusts. Sam loved the sex noises that Dean made while he was being fucked. Moans, groans, whimpers, and gasps accompanied profanity and endearments alike. Sam never new if he would hear 'Love you Sammy, gonna be with you forever' or 'Fucking pound your hard cock into my ass.' Sometimes Sam was convinced that even Dean didn't know what was going to come out of his mouth.

Sam wrapped his left arm around Deans Chest and pulled him upright until Sam was resting on his heels and Dean was riding him with his back pressed to Sam's chest. It changed the angle of Sam's thrusts until he was hitting Dean's prostate with every stroke.

Dean groaned, "Please, Sammy. PLEASE!" and Sam reached around with his already slicked right hand to pull and twist on Dean's leaking cock. Sam yelled, "NOW!"

Several things happened almost simultaneously. Dean's body clenched and he threw his head back to Sam's shoulder, spurting thick streams of cum onto the wall and headboard. Sam's own orgasm rolled through his body and he came, buried deep in his brother. And, Bobby kicked down the bedroom door training a gun on the startled brothers.

For the second morning in a row, Bobby heard Dean and Sam moving around upstairs at a much earlier time than he would have expected. He decided to ask them if they wanted to go to the diner for breakfast, so he headed up the steps. As he approached Sam's bedroom he heard Dean moaning "Please, Sammy, Please." Bobby thought Dean sounded like he was in pain or desperate. Bobby started to panic when instead of hearing Sam's voice he heard a strange man say, "NOW!"

Bobby was convinced that someone had broken into his house and gotten the drop on the Winchesters. With hunter's reflexes, Bobby pulled his gun and kicked in the bedroom door. At first, he could not make sense of what he saw. It was like an optical illusion. Bobby could make out all of the parts of the picture, but they would not join together into a cohesive image.

Bobby saw cum dripping down the wall. He saw Dean, naked and still erect, arched backwards into a strange man. He saw the man's hand curled around Dean's flagging erection. He saw two pairs of wide eyes staring at him in shock.

Without warning, the picture clicked together and Bobby asked, "What…. What…..?" with a weak voice as he lowered his weapon. The strange man whispered, "Bobby?" and looked at him with Sam's hazel, puppy dog eyes.

"Balls!" Bobby yelled. He spun on his heels and stomped down the stairs yelling, "Brain bleach! Fucking IDJITS! And You're cleaning that wall, Dean!"

Sam released his hold on Dean and slumped to the bed beside his brother. "He didn't shoot us, at least." Dean stated in a disturbingly quiet voice. Sam moaned, "Oh, god."

Dean huffed, "At least you were _covered_. I was _out and proud_ so to speak." Dean waved a hand to indicate his cock and the jizz covered wall. Dean snuggled into his baby brother's arms. "We're gonna have to go down there and face him, Sammy"

Sam gave his brother a hug before rolling to his feet and searching for clothes. He had a few giant sized outfits that he wore when he was a man that included jeans, tee shirts, hoodies, and work boots. While he dressed, Sam listened to Dean get cleaned up in the bathroom and put on his own clothes.

The brothers met at the top of the stairs and nervously made their way down to Bobby. When the brothers entered the kitchen, Bobby dragged his eyes over Sam's form, taking in his appearance. "Jesus, Sammy, you are huge." Bobby said. He could tell that Sam was at least 3 inches taller than Dean and had broader shoulders. He also noticed how much he looked like John Winchester. "You look like your Dad."

Sam smiled, showing the same dimples he had as a girl. "I still have Mom's nose, though." Sam said.

Bobby waved his hand at two of the other chairs at the table. "Sit down." He waited for the boys to sit before looking at Dean and continuing. "I really could have gone my whole life without witnessing what I just saw upstairs."

Dean agreed. "I think we both could have done without you seeing that, as well." Dean said with a small laugh.

Bobby smacked his hand down on the table. "This isn't a laughing matter, Dean. You had your sister's dick in your ass." Bobby frowned. "That isn't something I thought I would ever say."

Dean helpfully supplied, "I usually refer to Sam as my brother when he is like this." Sam nodded agreement.

Bobby tried again. "OK. You had your _brother's _dick in your ass." He groaned. "That really didn't improve that sentence very much." Bobby scrubbed his hand over his face. "Whatever. My point is….." He paused. "My point is… uh…. _Incest_…. Ah, FUCK IT! You know what? I don't give a shit. You boys do whatever the fuck you want, but if I EVER see it again, I will disown you." Bobby stood up and settled his cap more firmly on his head. "You boys are gonna buy me breakfast at the diner."

Sam and Dean looked at each other and shrugged. "Sure thing, Bobby." Sam said. Bobby lead the way out of the house, which is why he didn't see Sam grabbing Dean's ass, but he did hear Sam's grunt as Dean elbowed him in the sternum. He turned to see Dean trapped in a head lock while Sam attempted to avoid having his ankles kicked.

Bobby took a deep breath and turned away from the Winchesters. Some things never changed. As far as he could tell, the Winchesters were acting the same as they always did; like five-year-old children.


End file.
